


Day 6: Peace

by GemmaRose



Series: Prowl Week [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Gestalt (Transformers), Multi, Post-Canon, The Enigma of Combination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Peacetime has taken Prowl's life in directions even he never could have predicted. Including, unfortunately, back to Earth.
Relationships: Bonecrusher/Hook/Long Haul/Mixmaster/Prowl/Scavenger (Transformers)
Series: Prowl Week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709728
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Day 6: Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Some context: this is set in an AU where, instead of reappearing two weeks after the end of the war, Optimus doesn’t reappear for twenty years. Without the map from the broken matrix, Rodimus never leaves to find the Knights. Without the imminent departure of the Lost Light, Chromedome never renders Prowl vulnerable to Bombshell’s manipulations. Without that... well, butterfly effect just about covers it.

“Fourteen years.” Prowl muttered, doorwings flicking in agitation as he stared at the viewscreen over Scavenger’s shoulder. “Just when I thought I’d never have to set pede on this stupid, wet dustball again.” his engine growled, and Hook rubbed between his doorwings with a pulse of comfort over the bond.

“All we have to do is grab the Enigma, lock it up, and then we get to leave.” he murmured, and Prowl forced his doorwings down from their tense position.

“I was at the briefing too, Hook.” he said, perhaps more sharply than was strictly necessary. A moment later he sighed, doorwings drooping. “Sorry, I’m just...”

“Yeah, we can tell.” Bonecrusher said drily. “This aint our idea of a good time either.”

Prowl brought his hand up to massage just below his chevron, running over their assignment again. The strange energy signature from Earth was being caused by an amplification of the Enigma of Combination, which was a Cybertronian artefact and therefore could not be left in human hands in accordance with the Tyrest Accord. The humans in possession of the Enigma had argued enough that a team was needed to make sure they didn’t renege on the deal, and as the Constructions had been picked to be that team because, in Starscream’s own words, the Enigma couldn’t possibly _hurt_ them.

“We have clearance to land.” Scavenger reported, turning to look over his shoulder. Prowl nodded, and Scavenger pulsed happiness into the bond as he turned back to the controls. “Alright, heading down now.”

Prowl vented deep, and braced himself. None of them were particularly gifted pilots, but with the Enigma in play Dai Atlas had refused to give them an extra team member to handle the ship. Scavenger got them down safely, if not smoothly, and Prowl found himself at the airlock without any particular recollection of walking there. Long Haul’s arm rested heavy across his shoulders, and he flared gratitude at his bondmate as the hatches opened. The humans had chosen a large, open grassy area for the meeting, which Scrapper had managed to land just on the edge of, perfectly opposite the organics. He nudged that thought into the bond, and Scavenger positively lit up with pride.

“Good luck with the takeoff.” Mixmaster smirked. Scavenger punched him in the arm.

“Behave.” Prowl said firmly, pressing his aggravation into the bond. The faster they got this over with, the faster they could get _off_ this Primus-forsaken planet, and that meant being polite. His bondmates stopped a respectful distance from the humans at his signal, and Prowl approached close enough to take a knee, putting himself closer to their height. “Greetings.” he inclined his helm briefly. “I have been sent by Dai Atlas to retrieve the artefact known as The Enigma from your possession.”

“And the rest of them?” one of the organics asked, leaning sideways to squint at the Constructicons, who he could hear fidgeting and feel in the bond complaining that the atmosphere felt weird. How much less intimidated would the humans be, if they knew the fearsome Decepticons who destroyed a sizable portion of downtown New York City were whining about a little humidity and atmospheric static?

“Insurance.” he said simply, drawing every eye back to himself. “I would like to review your copy of the datawork first, to ensure everything translated properly.”

“Of course.” a larger human nodded, holding up what was, for them, an oversized clipboard. In Prowl’s hands it felt comically small and fragile, and he had to engage the zoom on his optics to read most of the text, but after a few kliks scanning the relevant parts of the document he nodded.

“Everything seems to be in order.” he told the human, handing back the clipboard. “The Enigma?”

“Right here.” one of them said, gesturing to a case the size of his chassis being offered up on a forklift. Somehow, he’d thought that an artefact of such enormous power from the era of the Thirteen Primes would be significantly larger. He accepted the case, and stifled a wince as attempting to unlatch it to verify the contents caused the human-made metal to crumple in his hands.

“That was-” one of them said, and Prowl shook his helm.

“Inconsequential. We brought our own containment unit.” he prised the ruined lid open, and his spark did a strange off-axis twist in its casing when he looked upon what was, without a doubt, the Enigma of Combination. The static prickle on his plating intensified, creping deeper into his frame, his HUD flashing red-

The bond surged, stronger than it had ever been, even when he laid spark to spark with one of his bonded. His T-cog burned, frame twisting through a new transformation, and then... they collapsed to their knees, one crimson hand sunk deep in the soft soil and the other pressed to their chestplate, the naked Enigma cupped in their palm. Their processor reeled, vents stalling as they registered their own existence, the ache of their newly formatted helm and left leg, the _unity_ of their spark. Familiar, but new. They rose to their pedes, swaying slightly, and their optics fell on the gaggle of organics before them.

Humans. Small, fragile little creatures, so easy to squish but hard to clean off of their plating afterwards. The one they most wanted to kill wasn't here anyways, it would be a waste. The one they _all_ wanted to kill, they noted, smile spreading on their face as dull realization turned to incandescent joy, their spark contracting slightly as five parts converged more tightly on the sixth. So long they had been fragmented, aching to be whole but unable to be so. Now the Enigma had repaired them, made them one again, matched them to their new helm.

" **Decombine.** " they spoke, the order radiating out from the central piece of their spark.

Prowl gasped as he snapped back to root mode, the world a smear of colour and light and noise as he fell, every sense a cacophony of input. His tacnet flashed numbers on the side of his HUD, distance and time to impact, projected damages. How the frag did Hook do this, during the war?

He spat static as he made impact, slamming not into the ground but a pair of familiar arms which left sizable dents in his arm and thigh. Structural integrity reduced by 32%, non-critical, transformation possible but not recommended. His entire frame hurt, processor throbbing as it adjusted to a vastly reduced power threshold. A touch to his face made him jolt, nearly flailing right out of his gestaltmate’s arms, and he had to shut off his audials entirely as the roar of noise around him grew to unbearable levels.

His gestalt’s worry pressed in on him from all sides with unbearable clarity, and he felt his vocaliser emit a sound which only intensified the smothering press of concern. _Too much_ he pressed at them, and immediately the world went dim, his sensors dropping to half input as the bond went calm and clear. He wobbled slightly as he was set on his pedes, Hook’s arm around his back a welcome prop to lean against, and faintly heard one of the humans ask what had just happened, the input relayed from Hook through the bond. And all their tiny, strangely coloured eyes were on him.

“What just happened, is the reason my gestalt and I were sent here.” he said as clearly as he could, his own voice echoing back distorted and delayed. “Thank you for your cooperation.” he made to turn, and Hook gripped his shoulder firmly, turning him the other way so they stayed side by side. Probably wise, considering Prowl wasn’t entirely certain he could walk on his own and collapsing in front of a bunch of humans was pretty much the exact opposite of a good thing. The Constructicons closed in around him as they returned to the shuttle, and as soon as the airlock was sealed behind them his entire sensor suite rebooted at once.

He sagged against Hook, vents wheezing and doorwings trembling as his leg- no, his bonded? No, his _gestaltmate_ unhooked a cable from the medical port in his arm. Primus, he must’ve been out of it not to notice that. “What just _happened_?” he rasped, not resisting as his gestalt fussed around him, one of them dabbing energon from under his nose with a mesh rag.

“We combined.” Mixmaster said, and elation rippled through the bond again.

“But that’s-” Prowl grasped for the words he needed, and came up empty. “I’m not large enough to be Devastator’s leg.”

“The Enigma.” Scavenger beamed, clutching the artefact to his chest like human children clung to their stuffed toys. Which- that did make a measure of sense, he supposed. The Enigma was massively powerful, and bonding his spark to each of theirs when they became conjunx _had_ transferred the gestalt coding into his system. Belatedly, he realized that he’d been reformatted for more than just a new altmode. He was at least a helm taller now, still not of a height with his gestalt but notably closer.

“Why did it redo your paint jobs?” he asked, still leaning heavily on Hook as his gyros recalibrated for his new size.

“To match you better?” Long Haul suggested after a moment of mutual confused speculation, and Prowl glanced down at himself. Nope, still black and white. Bonecrusher gasped when he looked back up at his gestalt, now a mass of red and white instead of familiar green and purple. He reached out, and Prowl leaned into the hand which cupped the side of his helm.

“You’re so beautiful.” he murmured, the bond echoing with pings of agreement, and Prowl let his optics flutter shut as more hands reached out, caressing his new, sturdier frame. A frame to match the durability of the rest of Devastator’s components.

“You lot don’t look half bad yourselves.” he replied. Such a drastic change of paint should’ve felt unnatural, but they wore their new colours well. Probably the Enigma at work.

“Y’kno.” Mixmaster grinned, field flickering warmer. “I bet we’ll have to work a lot harder now to mark you up.”

Prowl considered the statement, and their respective paintjobs. “Yes. A 47% increase in effort and positional creativity would be required.”

“I think we can do forty seven.” Scavenger outright leered, groping Prowl’s new grille. The burst of sensation made his doorwings shoot up, and he twisted to pull Hook into a kiss as the rest of their gestalt pressed in, their touches bold and purposeful.

“I’ll meet you in the berthroom soon as I can get autopilot turned on.” Long Haul said quickly, pulling the Enigma from under Scavenger’s arm.

“We’ll be ready for you.” Bonecrusher promised, and Prowl grinned as he was scooped right off his pedes. Ready indeed. By the time they broke atmo, the berth would already be a mess.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the Structies are now in their SG colours. Prowl also got a bit of an aesthetic upgrade, but he won’t notice until someone points it out back on Cybertron. His husbands think it makes him Extra Handsome tho.
> 
> Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [[Link](https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


End file.
